


Telltale Blush

by thinkpink



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alcohol, Blow Jobs, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-13
Updated: 2018-10-13
Packaged: 2019-08-01 09:16:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16281851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thinkpink/pseuds/thinkpink
Summary: “So why don’t we just skip the part where you throw lines at me and I pretend not to be interested, and you can suck my dick instead.”





	Telltale Blush

**Author's Note:**

> *disclaimer where I say that obviously you can't consent while you're drunk*
> 
>  
> 
> unbeta'd, sorry if it's a mess!

It wasn’t that he hadn’t realized what they were drinking was alcoholic. Or, whatever the equivalent of alien alcohol was. Something fermented, for sure. It was that sharp vinegary tang with just a slight burn at the back of the throat.

But what it really came down to is that it tasted good and it was flowing freely. 

And to be perfectly honest, Lance had never turned down a drink before and he wasn’t about to start now.

His tolerance may have been _a little lower,_ however. 

“I think I’m drunk,” he tried to whisper, but the way the heads nearest to him all turned, Lance could tell he’d missed the mark.

“Dude… dude. Oh my god, this is alcohol!” Hunk was holding up his glass in amazement, mindless of the way shimmery pink liquid poured over the side and down his arm.

Lance snorted laughter, leaning into the Yellow Paladin. This was a mistake as they both began to topple. 

A quick hand reached out to grab his upper arm, while Lance’s arm looped around Hunk’s waist, precariously holding him up.

“Can you go like, five minutes, without embarrassing us?” Keith hissed.

Well he tried to hiss, Lance could tell, but it was a lot more slurred than he’d probably intended. The dark blush dusting his cheeks gave that away. 

Lance grinned, eyes bright. “Oh noooo, I think Keithy baby is a little drunk toooo!” 

“Fuck off, Lance.” He released Lance’s arm and looked away with a huff. 

Hunk pressed heavily into Lance’s side, reaching over to grasp Keith’s face, squishing his cheeks between his fingers. Hunk squinted as he inspected the Red Paladin’s face. Keith stared back with wide, alarmed eyes.

“Yeah, definitely drunk,” Hunk concluded, leaning back. Keith continued to stare at him, shock written across his face.

Lance was shaking with laughter, his face warm from alcohol and mirth.

“How did I not realize it was alcohol?” Hunk asked, looking back at his cup. The question was mumbled, as if he was speaking to himself.

Lance pulled the glass out of his hand, draining it in one go. 

“This is what you call a _heavy hitter,”_ he explained. Keith looked at Lance with a raised brow, interest unusually obvious on his face. “It creeps up on you.”

Hunk sighed, looking at the now empty glass. Keith reached out and softly placed his hand on the Yellow Paladin’s shoulder, comfortingly. 

Lance smirked, a comment on Keith’s uncharacteristic lack of reservation poised on his lips when Hunk reached up and placed his own large, tanned hand over Keith’s slight, pale one.

“Oh god, I’m not gonna sit around and watch you two flirt,” Lance moaned, rolling his eyes. 

Keith’s lack of vitriol at the word _flirt_ only cementing his level of intoxication in Lance’s eyes.

Hunk was a lightweight through and through, and it seemed Keith was right there with him.

Lance, however, could hold his liquor. A childhood of sneaking drinks from the bottle of peach schnapps hidden under the kitchen sink, coupled with drunken beach bonfires drinking warm Malibu in his teens, and later six packs of whatever they could steal from the upper classmen at the Garrison. 

So though he was decidedly drunk, he was absolutely not drunk enough to continue watching the painfully awkward courting ritual that Keith and Hunk seemed to fall into these days whenever they were left alone long enough.

Flirting though… Flirting sounded entertaining. 

There was nothing Drunk Lance loved more than chatting someone up, possibly even taking them home.

Not that he’d had the opportunity to take anyone home in a while, but he could still have some fun.

And there was no one Lance loved to flirt with more than Shiro.

Lance didn’t like to examine his reasoning for this too much. It was a mixture of amusement and excitement, sprinkled with just a hint of desperation that drove Lance to continually pester the Black Paladin with his advances.

It was harmless, mostly. Shiro seemed to understand that, given his ability to brush him off. An eyeroll, the occasional _be serious Lance,_ breathed out with an exasperated sigh. 

But every now and then… 

Lance couldn’t figure out if it was just particularly effective instances of flirting or if sometimes he caught Shiro with his guard down but every once in a while, Lance would say something _just right_ that spread a warm, pink blush across Shiro’s cheeks. 

And it was a flush of excitement, dare he say _arousal._ Not embarrassment or annoyance. Lance could tell.

Obviously, his flirting was not completely unwelcome. 

On those occasions, Lance would back off, not brave enough to take the next step. He wasn’t used to feeling out of depth when it came to wooing – his natural charisma and unshakeable character more than up to the challenge. But something about that blush on Takashi Shirogane’s face…

It did things to him.

And after those occurrences, so few and far between, Lance would lay in bed and think about that blush. Imagine how far down it went, if it stained all across his chest, skimming his tight pink nipples. 

On those nights, Lance would come with the whisper of Shiro’s name on his lips.

So of course, heavily inebriated as he was, Lance sought nothing more than to see that blush again. 

Lance wandered through the crowd, passing aliens of various races, ignoring shouts of his name – he was on a mission – only stumbling twice, and once was definitely someone else’s fault. 

Like a bloodhound, he tracked his prey, looking left and right for glimpses of black formal wear or snowy hair. Shiro was probably engaged in important talks with potential allies and foreign diplomats. He was sure to be standing in a circle, polite interest on his face, intelligent, insightful comments on his lips. 

Except that was totally wrong.

Shiro was sitting on a bench along the wall, mostly hidden from the crowd by a vibrant blue potted plant. In his hand was a glass of the shimmery pink drink and his eyes were fixed directly on Lance. 

The corner of Shiro’s mouth crooked up in a smile. 

Oh yeah. Lance was definitely about the flirting tonight. 

“Hiding out?” Lance asked, taking a seat on the bench, just this side of too close. 

Shiro either didn’t notice, or didn’t mind, and his soft smile turned into a sharp grin. His eyes were half lidded, and even without teasing words from Lance his face was slightly pink.

Oh shit, Shiro was drunk too!

Lance tried to suppress the excitement at this thought, but he knew his drunk-self well enough to know it was probably written across his face. 

Shiro didn’t seem put off by it. In fact, he seemed _interested._

“Not hiding, just waiting,” Shiro told him, taking a sip of his drink, dark eyes watching Lance over the rim of the glass.

“Oh? Waiting for what?” Lance’s voice was unreasonably breathy for having literally just sat down next to Shiro, but that blush was stirring butterflies in his stomach.

“For you,” he replied simply. 

Lance startled, forehead creased in confusion. Why would Shiro be waiting for him?

“You usually tail me at these type of events,” Shiro said calmly, drinking more, eyes never leaving Lance.

Now it was Lance’s turn to blush.

“I was wondering when you would show up and start running your mouth.” 

Lance was pretty sure said mouth was hanging open but couldn’t lift his hand to check. 

Shiro leaned in, and Lance found himself shifting forward as well, despite the fact that his heart was suddenly in his throat. When Shiro spoke, Lance could smell the sweet scent of alien booze on his breath. 

“So why don’t we just skip the part where you throw lines at me and I pretend not to be interested, and you can suck my dick instead.”

He drained his glass as Lance sat frozen, disbelief washing over him. 

_What the actual fuck?_

Lance was gaping, he was sure of it. He tried to speak but nothing came out, his throat a desert suddenly.

“Oh, nothing to say? That’s new.” Shiro was smirking, there was no other word for it. He leaned back against the wall, spreading his legs slightly, just enough to draw Lance’s eyes directly to his crotch. 

Shiro was hard.

It wasn’t super noticeable, but the way Shiro was sitting pulled his trousers tight across his lap, making the solid line of his cock obvious if you were looking.

And Lance was looking.

Remembering himself, Lance looked up to Shiro’s face, eyes wide. 

“What… Uh, what are you… Did you-“ Lance stuttered, trying to recall how words worked.

“What’s wrong, smooth-talker? You’ve normally got so much to say! What was it you said the other day, about my thighs?” He looked so calm, it was like he’d asked Lance about the weather.

“Uhh… That they’d look good wrapped around someone’s head?” Lance cringed, thinking about the comment. It had mostly been a joke, a throw away remark when he’d caught Shiro doing squats in the training room. Shiro had rolled his eyes, good naturedly – even going so far as to smile sweetly when Lance had joined him in his workout.

Now though, Shiro grinned, and Lance wondered if the older man’s teeth had always looked so sharp. He’d been thinking of Shiro as prey this whole time, when in reality he was the predator, a wolf in sheep’s clothing.

“Well, now’s your chance to find out. Put up or shut up, _sharpshooter._ ” 

Dear god, Lance was going to have a heart attack. He looked around, alarmed, wondering if anyone else had noticed them sitting so closely together behind this weird plant. If anyone would notice if Lance dropped dead from shock. 

Shiro sighed then, his expression one of bored disappointment. 

“I’d hoped you weren’t all talk, but if you’re not interested it’s-“

Lance quickly cut him off, placing a hand on his knee. 

“No, I...” 

_You what, Lance? Get your head in the game, Shiro is throwing himself at you!_

“I’m definitely interested.”

Lance slid his hand a little higher up Shiro’s thigh, heart thudding in his chest. 

Shiro smiled then, that same sweet smile he gave Lance whenever they were alone. 

That smile was enough to calm Lance’s racing pulse, to remind him that the man sitting so close to him was his friend, someone he was seriously attracted to, not a wild animal about to take a bite out of him.

And then the smile slipped back to that wicked smirk, as Shiro reached down and grabbed Lance’s hand, sliding it all the way up his thigh, until it was pressed firmly against his massive erection.

_Holy shit._

Lance quickly scanned the room, checking to see if anyone was watching – the plant was hardly enough to block them from view.

Shiro squeezed his hand, in turn squeezing his dick, Lance’s hand held tightly under his.

“Worried someone will see?” 

Fuck, who was this guy?! Even his voice was different, deep and husky, from booze or arousal, Lance wasn’t sure. 

“Kind of!” Lance crowed, eyes still surveying the room, tension high. Despite this, he was still firmly gripping Shiro’s thick length, Shiro’s hand now merely resting against his own. 

“Then we should probably leave,” Shiro said, matter-of-factly. “It’d be in poor taste if I ate you out right here in the banquet hall.”

Sober Lance would have been embarrassed by the noise that escaped him at those words, but drunk Lance was too busy having an aneurysm to care.

“Besides,” Shiro grabbed his hand again, this time pulling him up to stand, before leaning down and pressing his mouth right against Lance’s ear. “I want to hear you scream.”

Lance shivered, squeezing his eyes closed as his head swam from the motion of standing. 

Maybe that liquor was hitting him harder than he’d thought. 

Maybe this whole thing was just a drunken fantasy. Maybe he’d wake up in the morning with a massive headache and his own come splashed across his dress pants, hand still wrapped around his cock.

Well, Lance had never been one to look before he leaped.

“Let me blow you and we’ll see who’s screaming,” Lance fired back, ready to give as good as he was getting.

In every sense.

Shiro grinned, excitement flashing in his eyes. Then he was pulling Lance through the room, mindless of the other people – who may not have seen Lance feeling him up on the bench by the wall but could definitely see the way Shiro’s hand gripped Lance’s or the way Lance was practically drooling, eyes fixed firmly on Shiro’s ass. 

Before he could give thought to the impression they were leaving on their allies, Lance was being pressed up against the wall in a dim hallway, far enough away from the party to provide privacy, but still completely exposed to anyone who might wander their way.

Hopefully the other Paladins didn’t go looking for them, because they would have been very easy to find. 

Shiro’s mouth was on his, firm and wet, his tongue sliding sloppily against Lance’s. He could taste the drink they’d all been indulging in, the same one that had given Lance the idea to look for Shiro. The drink that had clearly lowered Shiro’s inhibitions to negative ten. 

Lance needed to find out what the name of that shit was and order a case of it. 

Shiro pulled away suddenly, trailing his mouth down the length of Lance’s neck, nipping as he went. His hands slid from Lance’s waist, down to his ass, cupping the round, soft cheeks, before slipping back up. 

Lance had never really considered how slight he was until he realized that the two of Shiro’s hands spanned almost his entire waist. He looked down, surprised, to see the way that Shiro’s thumbs touched right over his belly button. 

God Shiro was so big!

“See something you like?” Shiro purred, releasing the mouthful of Lance’s throat he’d been biting – Lance was totally going to have a huge, fully visible mark tomorrow.

Lance looked up, startled at being caught. 

“Yes,” Lance breathed, wincing at how breathy and _honest_ the word came out.

Shiro looked down at him, eyes warm. 

“Get on your knees.”

Lance found his knees on the tile and his ass against his own fancy dress shoes before he could blink.

God, he was so thirsty. Couldn’t he at least play hard to get?

Shiro, however, did not seem put off by Lance’s enthusiasm, as he braced one hand against the wall above him and wound the other into Lance’s thick, wavy tresses. 

“You better hurry, someone might come looking for us,” he tightened his fingers, pulling back Lance’s head sharply with the grip on his hair.

_Pushy!_

Lance got to work, unbuckling the thick leather-like belt and unzipping his tight black trousers, pulling them down just enough to see that Shiro was not wearing anything underneath. 

Feeling like Indiana Jones discovering the holy grail, Lance reached into Shiro’s pants, wrapping his hand around the hot, fat cock he found inside. He pulled it out reverently, taking note of the fact that his thumb and middle finger only barely touched.

He grinned, looking up at Shiro, who was watching him with hooded eyes and parted mouth. Lance held his gaze as he licked wetly across the head, before stroking his hand down to the base and back up, savoring the low moan this pulled out of Shiro’s throat. 

Lance reached down to palm his own straining erection, just a tight squeeze, before he was leaning in, running his tongue along the bottom of Shiro’s dick, pressing sucking, open-mouthed kisses on the way back up, paying special attention to the thick vein underneath. 

“Well look at that,” Shiro’s voice was rough but concise. “I knew your mouth was good for more than just talking shit.”

His grip on Lance’s hair tightened even further, and he pulled Lance’s line of sight back up to him. 

“But I think you can do better than that, huh?” 

Shiro reached down, pulling Lance’s hand away from his cock, stroking himself firmly before pulling the shaft sharply to the side, only to let it spring back and slap wetly against Lance’s cheek. 

The hand on Lance’s own dick tightened reflexively, and he moaned meaningfully, his mouth watering.

“Be a good boy and suck me properly,” he positioned the tip of his cock right at Lance’s lips, making it incredibly easy from him to simply open his mouth and take it inside. 

Shiro was big. Not scary big, which Lance had seen before and _thanks but no thanks_ but big enough that the corners of his mouth stretched painfully as he fought to keep his jaw relaxed. 

Gathering up all of the saliva in his mouth to better lubricate his movements, Lance eased his mouth down halfway before pulling back, his cheeks hollowing from the suction his tight lips created. 

Shiro released a shuddering breath, his grip on Lance’s hair loosening until he was merely cupping his head, guiding his movements. 

Lance sucked hard, pressing his tongue along the frenulum, before loosening his jaw again, sliding down wetly, the canines of his teeth scraping just this side of painful.

“Yes, baby, just like that, _fuck.”_

Lance moaned at the words, his eyes falling closed, and he pulled off with a loud pop, smacking his lips before looking up at Shiro directly.

“Fuck my mouth,” he said, before sliding his mouth back all the way down, not stopping until his nose was buried in short, black curls.

The noise Shiro made then was best described as a howl, and the hand against the wall supporting his weight dropped until he was leaning on his elbow, head against his forearm. 

The move was unexpected, and Lance choked at the way it drove Shiro’s dick so much deeper, pressing into the softness of his inner throat. Tears filled his eyes, and he turned an annoyed expression up at Shiro. Well, as annoyed as he could look with his mouth full of cock.

Shiro leered, pulling back just enough so that Lance was no longer at risk of asphyxiating, running his free hand down along the side of Lance’s face lovingly.

“You look so good like this,” he thrust firmly, just deep enough to tease at Lance’s gag reflex. “Choking on my dick, _fuck_ I’ve wanted to see this for so long.”

His words sent a warm flush of emotion through Lance. Shiro was drunk, that was for sure – so was he for that matter – but maybe this wasn’t going to be a one-time thing.

Lance did his best to relax his jaw, bracing his palms on Shiro’s muscular thighs as Shiro face fucked him within an inch of his life. God, he’d never expected Shiro to be like this, so dominating and all encompassing. It was almost overwhelming.

Suddenly his erection grew even harder in Lance’s mouth – he was going to come any second and Lance was so ready for it. 

Shiro’s thrusting grew slow and shallow as he ran his fingers through Lance’s hair.

“What do you want, baby? You want Daddy to come down your tight little throat?” 

_Oh holy shit, did Shiro just go there?_

Lance moaned shamelessly around the dick in his mouth, he was now actively rubbing himself through his pants, he could feel his precum staining the fabric. If he wasn’t careful he was going to embarrass himself.

“Or do you want me to unload on your pretty face? All over that filthy fucking mouth of yours.” 

Lance tried to nod, suddenly desperate that Shiro come on his face, mark him up, make him smell like Shiro’s cum, make everyone know what a slut he was for Shiro’s dick.

“Good choice,” Shiro groaned, pulling out suddenly, stroking himself hard. Lance had barely tilted his head back and opened his mouth when the first shot hit him right across the face. Burning hot threads of thick, white jizz splashed over his nose and chin, liberal amounts of it landing in his open mouth. 

Lance swallowed as best he could, licking along the edges of his mouth. 

Shiro sank down in front of him, both arms still against the wall, bracketing Lance, caging him in.

He looked at Lance with hazy eyes, before placing his hands on either side of Lance’s face, leaning in to lick across his face. 

Cleaning up his own cum.

 _”Fuck, Daddy, please,”_ Lance mewled, and then Shiro was growling, tugging at the fastenings of Lance’s pants to reach inside, rough hands stroking him once, twice before Lance was spilling all over his hand. 

Shiro leaned in, pressing their faces together as he babbled into Lance’s ear. 

“So good baby, such a good boy for Daddy,” his breath was hot, and Lance couldn’t help the way Shiro’s words made him tremble. 

Shiro moved again, until their mouths were slotted together, tongues slipping against one another, Shiro licking deep into Lance, scraping along his teeth.

Lance could taste Shiro’s cum but also he could taste that tangy alcohol from the party.

It was a harsh reminder that Shiro was drunk and this whole thing had only happened because of that fact.

Lance tensed and pulled away, trying not to let the sadness he felt just then show on his face. Had he been sober himself, he might have been able to pull it off but if Lance was anything it was an honest drunk.

“What’s wrong?” Shiro asked, his voice gentler than it had been all night, face soft as he looked at Lance with concern.

“You’re drunk,” was all he said.

Understanding lit up Shiro’s face, and he pulled Lance in for another kiss, this one tender and sweet. 

“I’m not that drunk,” Shiro told him firmly, looking Lance directly in the eyes. 

With the high of orgasm fading, Shiro did look far more put together than Lance had originally thought.

“I’m drunk,” Lance returned, as if his level of intoxication had anything to do with why he’d done any of this. 

Lance didn’t think he imagined the flash of hurt on Shiro’s face, but it was gone before he could fully process it. 

“If you want to write this off as a drunken mistake, we can pretend it didn’t happen.”

His voice was steady, as if he’d just offered Lance terms in a business contract.

“Do you… like me?” Lance asked, voice tremulous with nerves.

Shiro huffed a laugh, leaning his head against Lance’s shoulder in disbelief. 

“Yes Lance, I like you a lot,” he leaned back then, raising an eyebrow wryly. “Do you think I would publicly molest just anyone?”

Lance smiled, looking away embarrassedly. 

“I didn’t think you privately molested anyone, to be honest.”

“What, you thought I’m a sweet, innocent virgin? Is my leaderly vibe coming off too pure?” He was grinning, those sharp teeth on display. Lance shuddered, remembering the way they’d felt against his throat. 

“You always blush when I flirt with you! It’s so cute! I just thought…”

“Oh Lance,” Shiro leaned back into his space, breath hot against Lance’s neck. “That’s not timidity. That’s me thinking about you stuffed full of my cock, screaming my name.” 

“Fuck-“ Lance choked, feeling his dick twitch at the thought.

Shiro seemed to sense this, but instead of reaching down to fondle Lance’s rapidly hardening cock again, he tucked him back into his pants, zipping him up. 

Resituating his own clothes, Shiro stood, pulling Lance up by the hand.

Almost as if he couldn’t help himself, he was pressing Lance back against the wall, cradling his head so that he could kiss him again. 

“I seem to remember talk of me eating your asshole ‘til you scream,” Shiro said.

Lance nodded, eyes wide. “Yeah, yep, right, you definitely- You know, they haven’t missed us at the party so far, I’m sure we can just go-“

“Sounds good,” Shiro was already dragging him down the hall, hand gripping Lance’s wrist.

+

Keith woke to the absolute worst headache he had ever experienced. 

Clutching his temple, he sat up, turning to look at the clock on his bedside, finding it to be far too early in the morning to even consider waking up. Not that he had the ability to even move without a wave of nausea rolling over him.

A loud crashing noise from the other side of the wall drew his attention, and Keith gasped at the pain that shot through his head as he turned to look. 

Another crashing noise and then-

 _“Please, Daddy, please!”_ Even muffled through the wall it was obvious the voice belonged to Lance. 

That was the wall he shared with Shiro. That was Shiro’s room on the other side. 

“What the fuck,” he whispered, his throat raw and voice hoarse.

“They’ve been going at it all night, just ignore them,” a voice beside him groaned, pulling the sheets slightly as they rolled over. 

_What the fuck!_

“Hunk?!” Keith cried, wincing immediately at the pain his own voice had cause him.

“Shhh, sleep now,” Hunk whispered, reaching up to fist the back of Keith’s shirt, pulling him back down to the mattress.

Keith could feel the blush staining his face when Hunk wrapped an arm around his waist, pulling him back against the larger man’s chest, but he couldn’t help but relax, falling back into sleep – even with the moaning from next door.

**Author's Note:**

> [come say hi to me on my tumblr :)](http://thinkpinkwrites.tumblr.com)


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